Doubly so, now that there was this other thing betweenthem, this troubling attraction she did not understand and did not want tocontemplate. It was bad enough that his words still echoed in her ears . . .Iwant you, I want you.The memory of how his eyes had ravaged her in thatmoment was something she would not soonforget,andwith him lying so close to her, the warmth radiating from his body was anall-too-potent reminder of his embrace.
Leila drew in her breath as a shiver raced through her,almost as if he was still holding her against his heart. With great effort sheforced her mind back to another matter.
She simply could not stop wondering about what mighthave caused the permanent rift between Guy and her brother. What little Guy hadtold her just didn't make sense.
If they had been such good friends and for so long,surely the fact that they had chosen opposite sides in a rebellion couldn'thave brought on this hatred, especially since Roger eventually had beenpardoned by the king. If King Henry had been willing to forgive an errantknight for a lapse in judgment, why not Guy deWarenne?
Leila chewed her lower lip, debating whether to voiceher query. Did she dare? Probably it would only provide another argument, asalmost every discussion did. There seemed to be no middle ground between them.
After another few minutes, she could stand it nolonger. Inhaling softly to bolster her courage, she raised herself up on anelbow, still taking great care not to touch him. "Lord deWarenne? Are you asleep?"
Leila's soft query was like a jolt of lightning searingthrough Guy.
Splendor of God. Was she daft? Of course he wasn'tasleep. How could he sleep when she waslyingonly aheartbeat away from him, her slightest movement causing him intense physicalpain?
To hold her through much of the storm had been thecruelest torture, his desire for her mounting with the screaming wind. It hadbeen almost a relief when she had abruptly pushed away from him and retreatedto the wall, but not the impassioned relief he would have far preferred. Damnif his vow wasn't becoming an impossible weight around his neck!
"No," Guy grated tightly, rising suddenlyfrom the bed. Now that he knew she was awake, he did not trust himself toremain so close to her and not touch her. If she wanted to talk, better it beon opposite sides of the room. He dragged a chair to a far wall and sat downheavily, rubbing his hands over his face as he asked, "What is troublingyou, my lady?"
At his impatient tone, Leila almost lost heart. Hesounded angry, irritated. Why had he practically vaulted from the bed? Perhapsit was better she didn't ask him anything. Why did she care anyway? It was noneof her business
"You asked if I was asleep, and you can see that Iam not," he said in a low, husky voice, cutting into her thoughts. "Whatis on your mind, Leila? Out with it."
Leila nervously wet her lips, deciding it was best toblurt out her plaguing question just as he said. If he didn't wish to answer,he wouldn't.
"Why do you hate my brother so, Lord deWarenne?"
He swore vehemently under his breath, and she winced,suspecting she should have kept her curiosity to herself. She was stunned whenhe answered at all.
"He wrongfully chose to follow the battle cry of atraitor, Simon de Montfort, earl of Leicester, who led the barons' rebellionagainst the crown."
"Barons?" she asked, confused.
"The great landowners who govern directly beneaththe king."
"Are you a baron?"
"No, a Marcher lord. My cousin, John deWarenne, earl of Surrey, is a baron and my overlord.WarenneCastle, where I make myhome,and the surrounding land on the Welsh frontier belong to me, as well as a largeestate I inherited in Surrey. But in war I fight under the earl's banner."
"And is my brother a baron?"
"No. He is also a Marcher lord, though he claimsno overlord but the king. It was the same with your father, William. Bothstubbornly independent men . . . clearly a trait that runs in your family."Guy exhaled with irritation. "Enough vexing questions! Go to sleep."
Unsatisfied, Leila pressed him further. "Surelythis barons' rebellion could not have caused such hatred between you and Roger. . . not if he was pardoned by the king. Yet you seek vengeance against him.Why?"
Leila sensed she had struck at the heart of the matterwhen she heard another graphic curse. She could feel his eyes riveted upon herin the darkness, a most unsettling sensation.
"You know little of men, my lady," Guy saidharshly, a tight pressure gripping his chest. His breathing was coming harder,faster, as terrible memories filled his mind. God in heaven, why was shegoading him? He felt himself being drawn closer and closer to that hellishabyss, and it was all he could do to answer steadily, "Conflicting idealsand opinions about king and country can shatter the best of friendships,leaving only bitter enemies. It is easy to hate in time of war when everythingyou believe in is at stake." He slammed his fist on the armrest. "Nomore, Leila—"
"But the rebellion was over years ago, yes?"she persisted as if she had not heard him. "And the king's forces provedthe victors. You said yourself Roger was banished for a time, his landsforfeited. He was justly punished, but still you thirst for revenge. I don'tunderstand—"
"It took over a year before the royalists finallywon their victory!" Guy thundered, something snapping deep inside him. Thecabin was so dark, his memories so real! He could feel the walls closing aroundhim, andin a raw panic, wordshe had rarely spoken toanyone tumbled from his month.
"And do you know where I spent that year? In adungeon cell so black I could have been blind, a cell so small the ceiling wasbarely high enough for a man to kneel upright, let alone stand!" Heclenched his fists, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. "And I wasn'talone. Oh, no! A friend shared this cell with me until he died hideously fromhis battle wounds. The corpse was left to rot on the dirt floor" —Guyshook his head, his throat so tight he could scarcely breathe, the stench soreal he thought he might retch— "until it was gnawed down to the bone byrats. Only then did the guards drag out what little remained, the bastards!Damn them to hell's fire! They gave me so little food I was forced to eat thosesame rats just to stay alive—"
"Stop!" Leila cried, sickened to her verycore. How she abhorred anything to do with rats! "Please stop! I don'twant to hear any more! I don't know why you're telling me this gruesome story.This has nothing to do with Roger!"
"It has everything to do with Roger!" Guyexclaimed, her outburst wrenching him back to reality. He hauled himself soabruptly from the chair that it toppled with a crash to the floor. He began topace the room in a fury. "That was my life for eleven long months, and Ihave no one to thank for it but your brother! It was RogerGervaisand his knights who hunted me down after the king's forces lost the Battle ofLewes, capturing me when I could have gone safely into exile. It was RogerGervaiswho personally escorted me to the dungeon inKenilworth Castle. It was RogerGervaiswho shoved meinto that cell with a fellow knight, leaving us both to die."
